Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 102

“Stop!” Chen Yan pulls the reins. It’s nearly dark. They reach a village and plan to stay the night. They also intend to ask the villagers for water. There’s no river nearby, only wells.

After dismounting, Chen Yan orders a few soldiers to fetch water. “Don’t take it for free. Pay for it. And don’t touch the young girls or the wives. If I find out, I’ll punish you under military law!”

The soldiers nod repeatedly. “Understood, General! Don’t worry, we’re not those kinds of people.”

Chen Yan sneers. “Go.”

Soldiers are no different from bandits. Bandits burn, loot, and kill—so do undisciplined soldiers. Everything depends on the general.

If the general keeps discipline, soldiers act like soldiers. If not, they’re worse than bandits.

Chen Yan punishes many soldiers for breaking into homes and assaulting women during rest periods. But such acts continue, even after repeated bans.

Why do these men join the army? To achieve glory? They’re not from noble families—no matter how many achievements they earn, they’ll never reach high ranks.

To them, being a soldier is a legitimate excuse to bully and exploit.

If a peaceful, war-free nation like Chen is already like this, then the soldiers of larger states can only be worse.

When countries conquer cities, mass slaughter is no longer uncommon. Once soldiers storm in, most generals don’t stop them from looting and killing.

Chen Yan despises this practice, seeing it as dishonorable. But while he thinks this way, most soldiers do not.

After risking their lives on the battlefield, shouldn’t they at least be allowed to enjoy the spoils?

So all Chen Yan can do is keep a close watch—to prevent them from doing anything that would disgrace the Marquis.

“Wait a minute.” Chen Shu rides over and stops in front of several soldiers who are about to head out. She dismounts and says, “I’ll go with you.”

The soldiers have never dealt with Chen Shu before, but they know the woman standing before them isn’t someone to mess with.

After Chen Dan returns, he tells them many stories—how he is captured by this woman, how she nearly strangles him to death.

Perhaps to save face, he exaggerates the details to a ridiculous extent.

In short, to the soldiers, Chen Shu becomes a living female demon—killing as easily as one might slaughter a chicken.

Chen Shu carries a bag filled with corn tortillas taken from the supermarket.

Every time Ye Zhou travels to a new plane, he always leaves behind some souvenirs. At the Luoyang Base, the keepsake is tortillas.

Since quite a bit is left over, they bring some along this time specifically to trade with the locals.

A single corn tortilla is enough to fill a grown man for a day. These are made by residents of the Luoyang Base, with sugar added. They have not only the aroma of corn but also a distinct sweetness. Each tortilla is thick, but not overly dry.

Ye Zhou sometimes uses them as a staple food.

Chen Shu says, “Let’s go.”

The soldiers timidly respond and follow her toward the village.

After walking a while, Chen Shu notices they’re keeping a long distance from her. She finds it odd, so she stops and turns around. Sure enough, they stop too.

No matter if she walks quickly, slowly, or stops, they always keep the same distance.

Chen Shu doesn’t know whether to laugh or get angry. Does she look like a plague? She hasn’t done anything to them.

So she stands her ground and shouts, “Hurry up! I won’t eat you!”

The soldiers look at her nervously. After a long pause, one of them finally summons up the courage to approach her.

These soldiers aren’t highly regarded in the military. Now that they’re in better health, it’s clear they’re very young—possibly not even fifteen yet. Chen Shu has seen enough to not literally treat them as children, but she does treat them differently than she would full-grown men.

When they finally gather around her with great reluctance, she asks, “Why are you so afraid of me? I don’t eat people.”

The bravest one whispers, “The scout said you can snap someone’s neck with your bare hands.”

Chen Shu: “…That’s not wrong, but I don’t go around killing just anyone. Killing someone takes effort. I don’t work for free. For example, if you soldiers weren’t paid and fed, would you still go fight on the battlefield?”

The soldiers look at each other and shake their heads honestly.

They join the army to survive. They’re not from military families, so they can’t earn merit easily. Joining the army means not being a burden on their families. They can send home their pay each year. If they manage to save up, they can marry once they leave the army.

Chen Shu says, “Exactly. So why are you afraid of me?”

Still, her words don’t do much. The soldiers are still afraid of her—just not to the point of keeping ten thousand miles between them.

The village isn’t large. At most, it has a dozen households. All the houses are mud huts, many with straw instead of tile on the roofs. Chickens and ducks are rare. The few chickens they see are kept in fences—clearly prized possessions.

Chen Shu knocks on the door of a house with a well in the courtyard. She raises her voice slightly and deliberately softens her tone, trying not to sound too fierce. “Is anyone home? I just want to ask for a bowl of water.”

After a while, a woman’s voice responds from inside, trembling, “Soldier… Our family is poor. We really have nothing left. My husband is working outside. Wait until he returns…”

A child’s crying can also be heard behind the door.

Chen Shu takes a deep breath. “Auntie, we really just want a bowl of water. How about letting me come in alone and having them wait outside? Don’t worry—I won’t take it for free.”

After a pause, the door slowly creaks open.

An old woman appears in front of her.

Her weather-beaten face is cracked like dry earth. Her lips and brows sag, her entire face etched with hardship.

Chen Shu smiles. “Auntie, I’ll come in with you.”

The old woman lowers her head timidly and steps aside. “Miss, please come in. Our home is humble… we can’t host you properly…”

Chen Shu turns back to the soldiers, gestures for them to wait, and follows the old woman into the house.

Inside, the air is filled with a musty odor—like rotting, moldy wood mixed with other unpleasant smells. It’s hard to tell exactly what.

Three children sit on a “bed” made of only straw. The oldest looks seven or eight; the youngest seems newborn. Their heads are large, and their bellies bloated.

Still crying, the children stare at her with glassy eyes. Chen Shu asks, “Auntie, what’s wrong with the children? Do they have stomach issues?”

The old woman shakes her head. “They’re hungry. Their stomachs are full of water.” She forces a smile. “I’ll fetch a bucket. Please wait, I’ll draw some water for you.”

Chen Shu asks, “I saw the crops in your fields looked good. Why are you starving? Didn’t you store any grain after last year’s harvest?”

The old woman shakes her head awkwardly. “The grain officer came twice to collect. There’s nothing left at home.”

Chen Shu is stunned. “No grain? How will you survive this year?”

The old woman looks confused. “We’ll dig up roots and live one day at a time.”

Chen Shu sighs. The old woman doesn’t seem to find this strange or unfair. They live like this every year. They survive last year—maybe they can survive this one too.

The children don’t respond to strangers. They look like baby birds stretching their necks for food.

The old woman pulls out two wooden buckets from the stove. The boards are uneven and riddled with holes. She carries them with a shoulder pole, clearly wanting to send off the soldiers and this noblewoman as soon as possible.

“I’ll do it.” Chen Shu grabs the pole. She always thinks of herself as hard-hearted, but she can’t help softening at this sight.

The old woman panics. “Miss! Please let me carry it. I can carry it!”

She can tell at a glance that Chen Shu isn’t a commoner. The soldiers outside are probably her guards. If they see her making Chen Shu carry something, they might beat her.

She trembles as she tries to take the pole back, but doesn’t dare use too much strength. Eyes red, she pleads, “Please, my lady… have mercy… I still have children…”

Chen Shu grows annoyed. She shoves the bag of corn tortillas into the old woman’s hands. “I’m going. You don’t need to follow me. I’ll return your buckets and pole. These are for using your water. Don’t worry. No one will bother you.”

She doesn’t look back. While the old woman is still confused and staring at the bag, Chen Shu walks out.

When the soldiers see her, they hurry over to the well. Chen Shu hands them the bucket and watches them draw water.

She can’t help but ask, “What did you soldiers do to deserve such resentment? Why do the people act like mice seeing a cat when they see you?”

Worried she’ll be angry, one of the soldiers quickly says, “This has nothing to do with us. We’ve followed the marquis since we joined the army. We’ve never harmed civilians—we were civilians ourselves!”

Chen Shu asks, “And when you were civilians, were you afraid of soldiers?”

They glance at each other and speak while drawing water: “Of course we were afraid.”

“Soldiers can kill without consequence.” Their faces show lingering fear. “If your family had money, it was fine,” another adds. “But if a poor family has a pretty wife… it’s hard to say.”

Chen Shu: “No one does anything about it?!”

Hearing the rising anger in her voice, one mutters, “Maybe someone does… But people die anyway. And if the soldier gets killed, it’s just one less man to send to war.”

Chen Shu rolls her eyes. “I’m a soldier too.”

They are stunned. They guess Chen Shu is formidable but never imagine she’s military.

“I join the army at fourteen. My unit doesn’t fight much, but soldiers are held to the same rules as civilians. If anyone dares take a single needle or thread from the people, they’re punished by military law—kicked out of the army, marked for life. This isn’t right! I’m going to have a talk with your lord. How can you clean up the world if you can’t clean your own house?! How can you hope to strengthen the country if you can’t even manage your own men? Ridiculous!”

The soldiers swallow hard.

She’s fierce—but it’s the kind of fierceness that inspires awe.

Inside the mud house, the old woman opens the bag carefully. She doesn’t know what kind of material it is—it feels unlike any cloth she’s ever touched, though she hasn’t known many to begin with.

But it isn’t the bag that leaves her flustered—it’s what’s inside.

The moment she opens it, a sweet, rich fragrance wafts out.

Food. Sweet, fragrant food.

She pulls the items out one by one, holding them up to the dim light through the window.

A dozen heavy, golden tortillas.

Each one bigger than her face.

She freezes. She doesn’t eat them. Instead, she pinches her own cheek.

The pain tells her they’re real—this isn’t a daydream.

She opens her mouth and lets out a low, choking sob.